


harmony, harmony

by caswell



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Anachronistic, F/F, Femslash February, Ficlet Collection, it's gay what more could you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 13,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswell/pseuds/caswell
Summary: The story of Brooke and Chloe's relationship is a long one, tragic at parts, euphoric at others. These are their most intimate moments.





	1. Opposites

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Femslash February everyone, especially WLW!   
> Every day this month, I'll be posting a ficlet about our favorite girls, using prompts from the official Femslash February Tumblr, femslashfeb. I hope you all enjoy them!

If you were to list Brooke’s and Chloe’s attributes side by side, there would be little overlap; in fact, you might even think they’d be enemies, or certainly not friends. On the one hand, there’s Chloe: rough around the edges, a bit conceited, not here to make friends. On the other hand, there’s Brooke: kind yet insecure, and never wanting to cause conflict. Still, they both know that the place they want to be is right by each others’ sides, despite all their differences.

 

“You know, you could try to be nicer,” Brooke points out one day as Chloe elbows some poor unpopular boy out of the way. “I think it might do you some good.”

Chloe twists the dial on her locker- 23-07-19; Brooke’s got it memorized- and says, “And why would I do that? I didn’t get to the place I am by being nice, Brooke.”

Brooke shrugs. She’s not really sure why she said it in the first place; Chloe’s got a point- she needs to be more hard than soft to hold her place as the head bitch in charge. “I just think it might be… nice. To not be pissy all the time.”

Chloe takes her math and chemistry books out of her backpack and puts them into her locker, then shuts it. Gesturing with her head for Brooke to follow, she starts the long walk to their first hour English class. “Look, Brooke, I love you, you’re my best friend, but you’re too  _ nice.  _ It’s gonna get you killed one day.”

Okay, so that might be true. She’s let people take advantage of her, sexually and otherwise, and that’s probably not healthy. But that doesn’t mean she’s  _ too nice,  _ it just means she needs to have more of a spine. “Yeah, I guess,” she says. “But that doesn’t mean it would kill you to be a little nicer. I think you should try it.”

Chloe considers it, staring at Brooke, then sighs and gives in. “Alright, fine. ...I’ll bet you five bucks I can stop snapping at people for a week.”

Brooke chuckles. She likes this Chloe, the trickster, the one who listens to her thoughts and feelings. “You’ve got it.”

 

Chloe looks with concern in her eyes at the sniffling mess before her. She hands Brooke a box of tissues, and she accepts them, pulling out a few from the opening and blowing her nose with one. “Thanks, Chlo,” she mumbles.

“Yeah, no problem.” Chloe sighs as she examines Brooke. Her eyes are puffy and red, and her breathing is shaky, but she’s not crying anymore- she must’ve dehydrated herself from sobbing before Chloe even got over to her house. “Are you okay?” she asks. It’s a stupid question, but it’s the only one she can think to ask.

“I- I just can’t believe he  _ cheated  _ on me,” Brooke answers with a whimper. “Who would do something like that?”

Well, Chloe’s cheated on a couple of boyfriends before- she’s more of a believer in free love than fidelity. ...So her, she supposes. But she’s not going to say that, of course. Instead, she says, “I’m gonna kick his ass. Actually,  _ we’re  _ gonna kick his ass.” 

Brooke looks up at her through teary eyes, brow furrowed. “‘We’? You know I couldn’t kick his ass. You’re always telling me I’m-” she sniffles- “too soft.”

“Yeah, but you don’t  _ have  _ to be,” Chloe says. “That’s the point. You don’t have to keep letting people get away with shitting all over you.”

“Well, I’m not going to beat him up, if that’s what you were thinking,” Brooke says. “That might be a little too much.”

Chloe scoffs. “Of course not! Love the implication that we’d form, like, a girl gang or something, though. Nah, what we’re going to do is…”

 

So maybe they’re opposites. That doesn’t get in the way of Chloe and Brooke’s friendship, or, starting in February of their junior year, their relationship. And sometimes, Chloe can be persuaded to be kind and caring, and sometimes, Brooke can be persuaded to egg a house.

Opposites attract, but Brooke and Chloe are more than opposites: they change each other for the better.


	2. Pink

“If we’re going to get married, it has to be pink.”

Chloe blurts out the proclamation from seemingly nowhere, and Brooke looks up from her sociology textbook, looking over to where she’s lying down next to her. “...What?”

“I said, if we’re going to get married, it has to be pink. Our wedding color, I mean. Pink and yellow, maybe?”

Brooke laughs, bemused, and sets her textbook aside to stare at Chloe, who’s scrolling through her Instagram feed. “Since when did you want to get married? You always said you hated the idea. You couldn’t be tied down like that.”

Chloe takes a deep breath in, then sighs it out. “Okay, look, I know I said that a bunch of times, but I’ve been thinking… when I said that, I was only thinking about getting married to boys. I didn’t want that. But I think if it’s you, I’ll be okay.”

Brooke laughs again, leaning more to nervous this time. It’s not that she doesn’t want to marry Chloe, because she’s been her girlfriend for, like, a jillion years, so of course she’d love to. She just figured it would never happen, since Chloe isn’t really the marrying type. But if she is, then… “This is a hell of a bomb to drop, Chlo.”

“I’m just saying!” Chloe says, not taking her eyes off of her phone. “This isn’t a proposal or anything. I just want our wedding to be pink, if we have one.” 

Brooke’s favorite color is blue, and the two colors together would look a little too much like a baby shower for her tastes, but she acquiesces anyway. “I think that’d be nice,” she says. She worries her lip, then looks down at her textbook again. Should she push it?  _ Could  _ she push it? “Um… what kind of dress were you thinking?” she asks hesitantly.

“Well, ideally, I’d go for a Louis Vuitton,” Chloe says, “but we both know that’s not gonna happen.” She groans. “God, Brooke, why can’t we be rich?”

“Because you decided to be a fashion designer and I decided to be a therapist,” Brooke says. “Maybe we should’ve gone into IT.”

Chloe grimaces. “Ew, gross. I’d rather die than do all that math.” She puts a hand on Brooke’s, threading her fingers between hers, and says, “But I guess- and tell  _ nobody  _ that I have feelings- it doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.”

Brooke blushes at that; even after all this time, she can barely deal with Chloe’s rare displays of affection. “Yeah,” she says, “all that matters is the pink.”


	3. Lost

Brook Lohst meets Chloe Valentine on the first day of her freshman year of high school. They have Spanish class together, and for once, Brooke actually likes the teacher; he doesn’t get mad when she falls asleep in class, he just sends her to the nurse, which she’s fine with. She also likes the girl she sits next to, who she only knows as Encarnición. She has long, brown hair with the remnants of blonde dye on the tips, and is by far the most well-dressed person in the room, including the teacher.

Things are good in Spanish class for the first few weeks. Brooke finds she actually looks forward to it; it’s sixth period, the end of the day, and it’s always a relief to know that there’s only an hour left until she can go home. It’s all sunshine and rainbows until the boy in front of her asks what her real name is, as opposed to Estrella, her Spanish name that she picked out herself.

“Oh, it’s Brooke. Brooke Lohst,” she answers, feeling a little like James Bond, but not in a cool way.

The boy wrinkles his nose and bursts out laughing. “Your last name is seriously ‘lost’? What, are you shitty at directions?” He rolls his eyes. “Oh, silly me; all girls are shitty at directions.”

Encarnición’s- that is, Chloe’s- eyes light up with righteous fury, and she looks up from her worksheet to stare into Ryu’s eyes.  _ “What  _ did you say to her?” she says, voice nothing but a growl. “Go ahead and repeat that, Ryu.”

Ryu seems frightened for a split second, but a shit-eating grin spreads across his face again as he says, “I said, she’s probably shitty at directions, like all of you girls are, Chlo.”

Chloe lunges forward and grabs Ryu’s face in a vice grip, acrylic nails digging into his cheeks. “If you say that shit to her- or  _ any  _ girl- ever again, I’ll rip your stupid little jaw off,” she hisses. “And  _ don’t  _ call me Chlo.”

“Chloe Valentine!” the teacher calls, rising up from his seat. “Did you just threaten another student?”

Startled, Chloe frees Ryu from her grip, then turns and gives the teacher her best puppy-dog eyes. “Ryu was being mean to Brooke,” she says, trying her best to sound innocent- it doesn’t really work. “Aren’t we supposed to speak up to bullies?”

“Well, yes,” the teacher says, “but not to the point of physical violence. Both of you, go to the principal’s office. She’ll sort this out.”

Brooke almost feels sad, watching Chloe stand up from her desk and walk out the door; they hadn’t said a hundred words to each other, and here she was, going to the principal’s office for defending her. “Valentine, huh?” she murmurs. “A lot better than Lohst.”

Years later, Brooke will take Chloe’s last name; now, neither of them are lost.


	4. Café

When Chloe’s parents cut her off financially after a fight- no more paying for school, textbooks, whatever- the only thing she can think to do is get a job at Starbucks. 

“I’ll be your number one customer,” Brooke jokes, attempting to cheer up a teary-eyed Chloe. Brooke has never seen her cry before; it’s surreal, almost nauseating. She’s usually the one who comforts Brooke as she cries, though, so the least she can do is be a good girlfriend and be there for her.

Chloe takes a deep, shuddering breath in, then out. After wiping a tear away from her eye, she says, “Thanks, Brooke. Make sure you come a lot, okay? I wanna see your face.”

Brooke’s not sure how to feel. On the one hand, it’s awful, what happened to Chloe, and she hates seeing her cry like this. On the other hand, talking about her feelings is immense progress from the way she was in high school. When it occurs to her that she hasn’t replied, Brooke says, “Of course I will.”

Chloe groans, then, and puts her face in her hands. “What if they don’t even hire me?” she mumbles. “I’ve never had a job before. Maybe they’ll want someone with experience.”

“What? Starbucks is, like, everybody’s first job,” Brooke says. “It’s either that or work at Target, and Target is shit. Really, Chlo, you’ll be fine.”

“I’d better be.” Chloe sniffles. “Just hold me, okay? And don’t make a big deal out of it. I just need a fuckin’ hug.”

Along with kissing Chloe, hugging Chloe is one of Brooke’s favorite activities, so it’s not as if she’ll say no. “One hug, coming right up,” she says, and takes Chloe into her arms, pressing a kiss to her temple. As she rubs her arm, she says, “If you want, you can even have some of my paycheck. I’m good with not buying the most expensive meals at the cafeteria.”

“What? No,” Chloe says, shaking her head. “I’m fine. Keep it.”

Brooke didn’t expect Chloe to expect her charity- her pride is her Achilles’ heel- but she’s still disappointed. “Alright, if you say so,” she says, but she makes up her mind to buy at least one of Chloe’s textbooks for her next semester. “Are you going to be okay, Chloe?”

Chloe sighs, blinking away tears, and nods. “Yeah. I’ve got you, so… I think I’ll be fine.” A few seconds later, in a very Chloe manner, she adds, “But if they don’t hire me, I’m gonna flip my shit.”


	5. Sharp

The unfortunate thing about marrying your best friend is that they can’t really go shopping for your suit with you. Chloe needs everything to be a surprise; if Brooke sees her suit before the wedding- or even knows she’s wearing a suit and not a dress- she’ll lose her marbles.

Jenna had agreed it was a good idea, though, and so she was the one who went suit shopping with her, alongside Christine, who actually had experience wearing suits. “You’re finally going butch, huh?” she’d joked. “Welcome to the club.”

“Well, no,” Chloe said, “but Brooke has a  _ thing  _ for women in suits.”

So that’s why they’d all gotten together from across the (thankfully small) state and were now in the women’s suits section of a high(ish)-end clothing store. “Why are there no pink suits?” Chloe hisses under her breath, scanning the area with an annoyed gaze. “Men have all the fun.”

“Your suit doesn’t have to be one of the wedding colors, does it?” Jenna says. “Ugh, I’m going to have to re-plan my dream wedding if it does.”

“Of course it has to, Jenna!” Chloe sighs. “Our wedding colors are pink and yellow, and Brooke is wearing yellow.”

“Wait, wait, Chloe, I found one!” Christine says from a few yards away. She pulls something off the rack, and, lo and behold, a pink suit sways from the hanger. “And it’s your size!”

Chloe rushes over and grabs the suit from Christine, expression shifting from a scowl to a grin. “Christine, you’re a blessing,” she says, then gives Christine an awkward side-hug that she wouldn’t have dreamed of giving in high school. “Lemme go try this on.”

She wastes no time getting in and out of the nearby dressing room; doing little fashion shows for her friends is like crack to her, because who wouldn’t love that attention? Clad in the suit, Chloe steps back out into the common area and poses with her hands on her hips. “Well?”

“Chloe, you look amazing,” Jenna says, clasping her hands together.

Christine nods vigorously. “Brooke is going to love it!” she chirps. “It’s very… sharp.”

“Sharp, huh?” Chloe examines herself; she doesn’t have a mirror, but, from what she can see, she looks damn good. “Thanks, you two. This wedding is gonna rock.”

“Hell, yeah, it is!”

“Agreed!”


	6. Moon

“There’s a full moon out tonight,” Brooke reads from her phone. She glances up at Chloe. “We should go out and see it.”

“A full moon? Those happen every month, Brooke,” Chloe says. “Sometimes twice. Tell me when it’s one of those blood moon things and I’ll go.”

Brooke hums in acknowledgement. She should’ve known Chloe wouldn’t care about the full moon; she doesn’t really appreciate the small things. She loves her dearly, but she’s not sure how she can live like that. If there’s anyone who can get Chloe to do things, though, it’s her, so she presses further. “C’mon, Chlo,” she says. “We can make a night of it. Go to the park, bring some champagne…”

“And get busted for underage drinking?” Chloe rolls her eyes. After worrying her lip for a moment, though, she adds, “It might be fun, though.”

Brooke sits up straighter, face brightening with a smile. “You’re the best!” she says, and hugs Chloe, who just laughs. “I’ll go get the picnic basket.”

“You… bought a picnic basket?” Chloe shakes her head, bemused but still smiling. “Why on Earth…”

“For times like these,” Brooke explains. “Now c’mon, let’s go.”

It’s a warm evening for this time of year, late October, so Brooke simply wears a light jacket that she’s borrowed from Chloe as she steps outside into the night air. Chloe follows close behind with the picnic basket, which she’s covered with a napkin to keep the champagne hidden. Brooke was against the decision to buy it initially, since she didn’t want to get kicked out of college or anything, but Chloe’s an expert at hiding alcohol; it’s party girl privilege.

WHen they reach the park, Brooke spreads out the blanket she’s brought, and Chloe sets the picnic basket down in the center. “I didn’t bring glasses,” she says, “so we’ll have to drink out of the bottle.”

“Awwww, just like high school,” Brooke says with a laugh. She turns her eyes to the moon, shining silver in the dark night sky, and sighs. There’s something dreamy about all this: just sitting here with the person she loves, a bottle of champagne between them, and the moon overhead. As she glances over at Chloe, she notes the way the light falls on Chloe’s newly-bleached hair. 

“Y’know, I’m glad I came out here,” Chloe says after a few minutes of silence. “It’s pretty nice out. Thanks for twisting my arm.”

Brooke, who had moved aside the basket and cuddled up to her, says, “Of course! There’s nobody I’d rather look at the moon with.”

She hasn’t been looking at the moon, though. She’s been looking at Chloe.


	7. Disaster

That Halloween night wasn’t the first time Chloe had been cruel to Brooke, but it was the deepest cut she’d felt yet. Now, two months later, she’s getting an apology- a proper one.

“I shouldn’t have done what I did,” Chloe admits, looking down at her nails. Her eyes are trained on them so hard that Brooke envisions them popping out of their sockets and falling to the floor, God forbid. “It was pretty bad.”

“Yeah, it kinda sucked, Chlo,” Brooke says. “And Jeremy says it wasn’t that pleasant, either.”

Chloe glances up at Brooke and squirms under her gaze, which is a first. “I apologized to him already,” she says defensively. “He says he forgives me.” Crossing her arms, she looks away. “This is about you and me.”

Brooke nods. “Right. You and me.” She knows Chloe cares about her- she’s pretty sure she does, anyway; otherwise, why would they still be friends?- but damn, it  _ hurt.  _ It hurt to see her best friend pinning her boyfriend to the bed, to see his panicked eyes, caught red-handed. Obviously she now knows that he didn’t mean anything by it, that it was forced, but in the moment… ouch.

Chloe takes a deep breath in, then sighs it out, twirling a strand of brown hair around her finger. “I’m sorry. Really, Brooke, I am. I just…” She taps her sharp nails on the bedspread. “I wanted Jake back. That’s all I wanted- I didn’t mean to make you jealous or upset or anything.”

“I know. I don’t think you would ever  _ intentionally  _ hurt me.” Brooke wraps an arm around Chloe’s shoulder and manages a smile despite the gravity of the situation. “And… for what it’s worth, you’re forgiven.”

“Thanks, Brooke,” Chloe says, and takes Brooke’s free hand. “It won’t happen again.”

“Well, I sure hope not! If it does…” What if it does happen again? Would she forgive her? Probably. She’s not that fantastic at standing up for herself. Besides… she loves Chloe a lot. What would she do without her. Instead, Brooke just clears her throat and says, “If it does, I won’t be happy.”

Chloe shakes her head. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Good. I love you, Chloe,” Brooke says, unsure of how she means it.

“I love you, too.”


	8. Silent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for parental abuse.

A nightmare. Screaming, shouting, slapping; glass breaking, whimpering. Chloe opens her eyes into an unforgiving darkness, then blinks, and it’s her dorm room again. She breathes in, a shaking inhalation, then sighs out and squeezes her eyes shut.

The dreams have been more common lately. She hasn’t been slapped in two years- not since she moved out for college- but the damage is done; the trauma lies beneath her skin and bites at her brain as she sleeps. She would rid herself of them, but she doesn’t know how.

But there’s no sound of skin against tender skin now. In the dark of her dorm room, the only sound is breathing inside and the crickets outside- it’s nigh silent. That would be comforting for some people, but not for Chloe- if people aren’t talking at all times, the bad thoughts start to seep in:  _ ruin your relationships, seduce your teacher…  _ It’s torturous.

God knows she won’t be able to get back to sleep in this silence, so Chloe has two choices: lie there and stare at the ceiling for- she checks the clock- another four hours before her alarm goes off,  _ or  _ wake up Brooke, who’s sleeping quietly beside her. In the past, she would’ve had no qualms about waking her up, but she’s grown a lot in the past few years, and a lot of that involves being kind to Brooke.

Still, Chloe can’t bear the silence alone. Regretfully, she shakes Brooke by the shoulder and whispers, “Hey, Brooke?”

Brooke frowns, then opens one eye and looks up at Chloe. “What is it, babe?” she whispers back, voice barely audible.

“I, um… I had a nightmare,” Chloe says. It feels so stupid to say it out loud, but she couldn’t just lie. “About my parents.”

Brooke sits up slowly and gestures for Chloe to put her head on her lap; obediently, Chloe does so. As she runs her fingers through Chloe’s hair, Brooke asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

If there’s one thing everybody knows about Chloe Valentine, it’s that she hates talking about her feelings. Still, with Brooke, it’s almost close to alright. Chloe closes her eyes, sighing, then says, “It was about that time when I broke my parents’ liquor bottles.”

“I never heard about that, did I?”

Chloe shakes her head. “Probably not, but it happened. When I was, uh, twelve. My mom slapped me afterwards.”

Brooke’s hand stills. “Your parents hurt you like that?”

Oh, shit. That’s right- Brooke doesn’t know about her parents. She wanted to keep it a secret, wanted to leave it all behind in Metuchen when she left, but abuse doesn’t just go away like that. The truth has to come out sometime, so Chloe just nods. “Not often. Not enough to be conspicuous. But… yeah, they slapped me around sometimes.”

“That’s terrible!” Brooke’s hand continues its carding through Chloe’s hair, but this time, it’s shaking a little- with sadness or with fury, Chloe’s not sure. “Did you ever call CPS?”

Chloe scoffs. “Oh, as if they’d believe them. Besides, I’m the problem child; always out partying and shit. They’d probably just say they disciplined me and leave it at that.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Brooke sighs and leans down to kiss Chloe on the temple. “It’s okay now, though, right? You’re not living with them anymore.”

“Well… it’s certainly better than being around them,” Chloe says, “but I still have to live with these nightmares.”

“You’ve got me, at least.”

For the first time since she woke up, Chloe manages a smile. “Yeah, I’ve got you. …I love you, Brooke.”

“I love you, too, Chlo. Now let’s try to get back to sleep, okay?”

“Alright.”

This time around, Chloe doesn’t dream at all.


	9. Lavender

Here’s how Chloe proposes.

It starts with a bouquet- not a traditional one, but one made of wild lavender. She’s no floriography buff, but she’s read that the color itself is an LGBT symbol, so the lavender flower must mean something. She picks them one Saturday morning while Brooke is at a nearby synagogue, the rabbi at which Chloe has secretly been contacting about converting, and she soaks up the sun as she does, basking in its warmth.

Then, she bundles the sprigs together and slides the ring over the stems, binding them together. Who needs ring boxes when you can do it with a bouquet? Chloe smirks, perhaps a little too proud of herself at her innovation. She’s Chloe fucking Valentine; something that overdone just isn’t gonna cut it.

Next is the waiting stage. Brooke is chatty, and she’s got loads of friends at her synagogue; it generally takes her a whole half hour to get back home after the service, even though the synagogue is only 20 minutes away. Chloe sets the bundle of flowers on the kitchen table and switches between staring at it and the clock. Finally, forty-five minutes later, Brooke opens the door, and Chloe snatches the bouquet from the table and hides it behind her back.

“Honey, I’m ho… whatcha got there?” Brooke asks, cocking her head as she sets her keys on the table. “You look nervous, what’s up?”

Ah, Brooke and her empathy. Chloe laughs and looks away, making a feeble attempt to hide her nerves. Of course she’s anxious- she’s about to propose to her girlfriend, for God’s sake; it’s the biggest thing she’s ever done in her life. Here goes nothing.

“So… you know how I used to be a total bitch?” Chloe asks. She should’ve come up with a script like she used to, but DEARMAN can’t help her now.

Brooke nods. “You, like, super did. But I love you anyway!”

“I love you, too,” Chloe says. “That’s actually the point of all this. You changed me, Brooke. You made me into a better person, and I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Brooke laughs, glancing away, and blushes. “Chloe-”

“No, no, keep listening,” Chloe cuts in. “You’re, like, the most important person on Earth to me. You’re the first person to have treated me tenderly. My parents didn’t, Jake didn’t,  _ nobody  _ did. You’re something completely different.”

Brooke runs a hand through her hair, then clenches it. “Chlo, are you about to do what I think you’re about to do?”

The only thing Chloe can do is laugh, not in the mean-spirited way she used to, but in a ‘you got me’ sort of way. She hands Brooke the bouquet, and she takes it in shaking hands, smiling up at Chloe with the widest green she’s ever seen on her. 

“There’s nothing I can say or do that can show exactly how much you mean to me. But I hope this comes close.” Chloe takes a deep breath in, then out. “Brooke Lohst, will you marry me?”

Brooke looks like she’s nearly vibrating out of her skin, which Chloe takes as a yes even before she says it. “Of  _ course  _ I will,” Brooke says, and doesn’t even put the ring on before she launches herself into Chloe’s arms. She peppers Chloe’s cheeks with kisses, then gives her a deep one on the lips; Chloe smiles into it with all the bliss her heart has ever felt.

“Come here,” she says after a minute of getting smothered, “let me put it on.” She takes the ring from the bouquet, letting the flowers spread across the table where Brooke dropped it, and slides it onto Brooke’s finger. 

“It’s beautiful,” Brooke whispers.

“Yeah,” Chloe says, “but not as beautiful as you.”


	10. Waiting

Brooke is going to be alright. She has to believe that Brooke’s going to be alright.

Chloe stares down at her best friend’s unconscious body, hooked up to an IV drip in a stark white room at Beth Israel, and shakes. What the fuck even happened that night? She recalls Rihanna saying some BS about being more chill, which is ridiculous, because she’s already the most popular girl in school.

But then everything went to hell. She can picture perfectly in her mind’s eye falling to the ground, shrieking, and everyone else around her doing it, too. She remembers waking up in the hospital three days ago, her parents nowhere to be seen, probably at work despite the fact that their daughter was in a coma. 

Chloe knows, logically, that the same thing will happen to Brooke, although her parents are here, since they actually love her. (Chloe’s not jealous. ...Okay, she totally is, but whatever.) Still, it’s painful, looking down at her in that hospital bed, face gaunt. When will she wake up? The voice in the back of Chloe’s head asks,  _ will  _ she wake up?

 

It takes another week- seven more days of Chloe skipping homework to visit her, of not being able to concentrate in class, of breaking out her flask at home to drink away the worry- for Brooke to wake up. 

Chloe doesn’t notice at first; the fluttering of her eyelids is nigh imperceptible. After a few seconds, though, Brooke opens her eyes fully and whispers, “Mom? Dad? ...Chloe?”

Chloe jolts upright as quick as she can, but Brooke’s parents make it to the bed before her. “Brooke, are you okay?” “Does it hurt?” “What happened?” “Was it drugs?”

Chloe sighs and looks away. She knows, logically, that it’s her parents’ right to crowd around her and stuff, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be bitter about it. She’s her best friend, for God’s sake; she should be there for her.

And then Brooke is speaking. It’s cracked, quiet, but Chloe can still make it out: “Chlo? Is that you?”

Chloe looks up, dark brown hair bouncing beneath the fluorescent lights, and darts over to the side of Brooke’s bed. Brooke’s parents part like the Red Sea to let her in between them. “Brooke! You’re awake.”

“Sure am,” Brooke says. “How long was I out?”

“Two weeks,” Chloe answers, breathless, and brushes a strand of hair out of Brooke’s face. “I thought you would  _ never  _ wake up. You took so long- everyone else is awake.”

Brooke chuckles, a low, tired sound that makes Chloe’s chest warm. “I’m always a little slow,” she says. “But it’s good to be back.”

“It’s good to  _ have  _ you back,” Chloe says. “I was worried sick about you. Don’t ever do something like that again, okay? Pinkie promise.”

Brooke rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. “Alright, fine,” she says. “Pinkie promise.” She holds out her pinkie, and Chloe wraps hers around it; with that touch, she knows that everything will be alright.


	11. Rest Time

On Mondays and Wednesdays, Brooke has psychology and composition II. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, she has interpersonal communication and college algebra. On Fridays, she rests.

There’s no alarm blaring when Brooke wakes up, cuddles up to Chloe with her head on her chest. It’s the little things days off, warm baths with the curtain pulled, the way the sun shines through the window in the springtime- that she loves the most about life. Sure, she loves grand romantic gestures and big vacations, but everyday life can be special, too.

Brooke glances at the clock. It’s 10 A.M.- not too early, but not too late, either, and Chloe likes to sleep in. Her earliest class today starts at noon, so she still has time to sleep; Brooke decides not to wake her up, and simply lays her head back down.

Chloe, of course, has other ideas. “‘Morning, Brooke,” she whispers, running a tired hand through Brooke’s hair. “You’re up early.”

“Not really. It’s already 10:00,” Brooke says, but smiles despite her disagreement.  _ “You’re  _ the one who’s up early.”

Chloe hums in acknowledgement and continues to stroke Brooke’s hair. “Free day today, huh? You wanna go get breakfast before class?”

“Can we stay here for a little?” Brooke asks, turning her face so that her voice is muffled by the fabric of Chloe’s pajama top. “It’s nice. It’s good.”

“It is pretty good, huh?” Chloe says, and switches from running her fingers through Brooke’s hair to scratching at her scalp, which is dandruff-free and not flaky at all, thank you very much. “I love you, Brooke.”

“Love you too, Chloe.” Brooke yawns, then turns her face yet again to kiss Chloe’s chin. “Now, let’s go back to sleep.”

She can't quite get back to sleep, though. Chloe is too warm, and the bed is too comfortable; she's too cozy to sleep. That's the thing about her- she can easily fall asleep on a bus, but in bed? Impossible. “I can't sleep,” she mumbles eventually.

Chloe laughs. “I figured you wouldn't be able to. C'mon, gimme a kiss instead.”

And Brooke does. By the time they break apart for good, breakfast time is long over.


	12. Balloons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure where I heard of Jewish Brooke first, or if it's even a headcanon from someone I don't dislike, but I stand by it.

When Chloe opens her eyes on the morning of her 24th birthday, she fully expects Brooke to be sleeping next to her, lips slightly parted, blonde hair in her face. When she glances to the side, though, she's nowhere to be seen. Chloe frowns. It isn’t a Saturday, so she wouldn't be at the synagogue; where was she?

Her eyes travel upward, then, and she catches sight of the reason Brooke isn't curled up next to her: twenty four pink, heart-shaped balloons fill up the room, strings dangling down like stalactites in a yellow-painted cave. Chloe snorts and rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face. Leave it to Brooke to bring her back to her childhood… in a good way, that is.

Chloe is about to get out of bed and head out to the kitchen when  Brooke knocks on the door, swinging it open slightly. “Happy birthday, Chloe,” she says as she steps in with two cups of coffee, one of which is in Chloe's favorite mug. “You saw the balloons, right?”

Chloe laughs. “Yeah, I saw the balloons. C'mere.” She gestures for Brooke to climb into her arms, and she does- after, of course, putting the coffee on the nightstand. “I love you, Brooke. Thank you.”

“Why, you're welcome,” Brooke says, snuggling against Chloe. “I figured, since your childhood kinda sucked… y'know, maybe we could recreate it, but better.”

“I'd be down with that.” Chloe kisses the crown of Brooke's head. “Do you know my favorite childhood meal?”

“Of course I do! You told me once in college. I mean, when we were both in college.” Brooke, of course, is in grad school, which sort of eats up their income, but it's worth it. “Grilled cheese, right?”

“Damn straight.”

“Good, because that's for lunch,” Brooke says, and kisses Chloe on the cheek in return. “I've got the whole day planned out from top to bottom.”

“You are a blessing, Brooke Lohst.”

“I could say the same to you, Chloe Valentine.”

Somehow, a cozy day in with her fiancee is even better than her sweet sixteen.


	13. The Sun

It's Chloe's idea to eat lunch outside one spring afternoon towards the end of the semester. The weather is nice, and there are no rules against it, so why not?

Brooke carefully carries her chicken sandwich outside beside her as Chloe holds her salad in one hand, eyeing it somewhat distastefully. She's not a huge fan of the cafeteria food at their college, but it's sure as hell better than Middle Borough, so whatever.

The bench outside is warm beneath her body, and Chloe smiles as she relaxes against it. She'll probably get lettuce everywhere, since she's eating out of her lap, but she doesn't mind. 

“It's gorgeous out here,” Brooke remarks, taking a break from eating her sandwich to gaze up at the bright blue sky. “We should really do this more often.”

“If we do it too often, it'll get boring,” Chloe points out. When Brooke pouts, though, she says, “Okay, fine. Maybe on Fridays?”

Brooke grins. “Hey, that's our first college tradition! Only took us two years to get there…”

“Better late than never,” Chloe says with a shrug, then takes a bite of her salad. She glances back toward Brooke, then stops, staring. The mid-afternoon sun bounces off of Brooke's blonde hair, lighting her up like a neon sign that says  **KISS ME.** “...Hey, Brooke?” she asks, a smile spreading over her face.

“Mm-hmm?” Brooke looks over and swallows the French fry she was chewing on. “What is it?”

“Will you kiss me?” 

Brooke rolls her eyes good-naturedly and smiles to match Chloe's. “Do you really need to ask?” She leans in and presses a kiss to Chloe's cheek, then wipes the lipstick stain off with her thumb.

Chloe laughs and pushes Brooke away- gently, so as not to hurt her. “Stoooop, that  _ tickles.” _

Brooke sets her plate down on the ground and waggles her fingers, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, yeah?”

“Brooke, I'm holding my salad!”

“Get ready-”

“Brooooke!”


	14. White

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's day!

If Brooke could narrow the advantages of dating her best friend down to one, it's that she already knows almost everything there is to know about Chloe. She knows her favorite food (any variety of surf and turf); biggest fear (having her reputation ruined); sun, moon, and rising signs (Aries, Scorpio, Scorpio)... and, of course, her favorite candy: white chocolate. That's why Valentine's Day is so easy. 

Still, she's nervous as she waits for Chloe to pick her up at her house that Tuesday morning. What if she suddenly developed an allergy to white chocolate? What if the card she'd made was too cheesy or too unprofessional? Brooke considers herself to be pretty good at arts and crafts, but Chloe's a pretty harsh person.

“Brooke? Are you gonna get in?”

Brooke snaps back to attention and realizes that Chloe has arrived. “Sorry, coming!” she says, and hops into the sleek, black car. She straps herself in, then adds, “Happy Valentine's Day!”

“Happy Valentine's Day, Brooke,” Chloe says, and leans over to kiss Brooke on the cheek before she pulls away from the curb.

“Wait, wait, I got you something,” Brooke says, rifling around in her backpack. “Here.” She hands Chloe the card and the chocolate bar, and Chloe's face lights up with delight.

“Oh, shit, nice!” she says. “Thanks, Brooke. You're too sweet.”

Brooke chuckles. “I'm not  _ that _ sweet,” she protests, which is patently untrue. “I just know you like white chocolate, and it's our first Valentine's Day together, so I wanted to do something nice.”

“Well, thank you,” Chloe says, and leans over to kiss Brooke on the cheek. “I got something for you, too.”

Brooke straightens up in her seat, eyes widening slightly. “Really? You did?”

“Of course I did. It's Valentine's Day, and you're my girlfriend.” Chloe opens up her purse, and, after a few seconds, takes out a bag of mini Reese's Cups and hands it to Brooke. “Here.”

“Aww, my favorite!” Brooke grins and leans over the center console to hug Chloe. “I'm so glad I started dating my best friend.”

“Yeah, me too,” Chloe says. “Especially when it's someone as cute as you.”

There's a reason everyone says they're a power couple.


	15. Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those of you who have read my other fics will recognize this scene from "How Does That Make You Feel?", my Chloe redemption arc fic. I thought it would be fun to rewrite it from Brooke's POV, and it was!

The first time Brooke gets kissed by Chloe, it’s completely out of the blue. Well, maybe that’s not entirely the case; Chloe  _ had  _ been acting pretty weird the previous few days, but it still took her by surprise- the best surprise she’d had in years.

“God, I need a  _ break,”  _ she groans, setting down her copy of _ The Great Gatsby,  _ which is delightfully gay, but still hard to get through, and not very interesting. She’s behind on it by three chapters; she’d gone on a trip to New York City with the choir at the beginning of the semester and hadn’t yet caught up with the rest of the class. Instead of worrying about that, though, Brooke grabs a tube of lip gloss from her purse and gets to work applying it, swiping the wand delicately across her lips. 

When she glances upwards to look at Chloe, she’s staring at her with eyes that are almost… hungry. She’s seen that look before- or, perhaps, something like it, but not quite the same. This is Chloe, about to pounce. “What’s with the look, Chlo?” she asks, twisting the cap on the lip gloss and putting it back in her purse. “You’ve been acting super weird lately. I’m kinda worried.”

Chloe narrows her eyes, and, instinctively, Brooke leans back a little. Is she angry? Did she say something to piss her off? When Chloe mumbles something under her breath that Brooke doesn’t quite catch, she asks, “Come agai-”

...And is cut off with a kiss.

It’s electric, really. It’s better than anything she’s had in months, maybe ever; Jeremy wasn’t like this, but she shouldn’t think about it right now, since she’s kissing her forever crush, the girl that she’s kinda been into for the past two years. 

It’s new, it’s exciting, it’s  _ warm,  _ and it’s over too soon. When Chloe breaks away from her finally, all Brooke can say is, “Oh. ...Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Brooke licks her lips. That’s the best thing that’s happened to her in so long- but it’s too good to be true, isn’t it? “Chloe, tell me you didn’t just do that because you’re ‘heteroflexible’ or something,” she says, complete with air quotes.

Chloe shakes her head, brown hair bouncing beneath the light of the ceiling fan. “No. No, Brooke, I think I genuinely like you.”

Brooke’s face breaks out into a grin, and, with a giggle, says, “Oh, my God, Chloe, I’ve had a baby crush on you for, like… two years. This is  _ amazing!” _

Chloe smiles back, a rare sight, and asks, “Can we… can we kiss again?”

Brooke nods until her head hurts, and she knows this is what she’ll be dreaming about for weeks to come.


	16. Umbrellas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I messed up the order a little; oh well. Here's day 15, 'umbrellas'; yesterday was for day sixteen.

Water sloshes around Brooke’s feet as she treads down the street, hands stuffed in the pockets of her hoodies. It’s just her luck- she’d forgotten to bring an umbrella that morning, but she didn’t have time to turn back for one; she’d hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t start raining like the weather anchor said it might, but to no avail. At least she already went to school, so her look wasn’t ruined for the day, but that’s barely a comfort.

Brooke sighs, downtrodden, then shrieks as a car zooming past throws up a puddle of dirty water at her, splattering across her hoodie. “Ugh!  _ God!”  _ How she longs to be dead and buried, or at least home in a warm, fuzzy bathrobe.

Another car drives up, and she flinches away, expecting another flinging of water, but instead, she hears Chloe’s voice call out, “Brooke?”

Brooke looks over to see Chloe pulled over to the curb, looking at her expectantly. “...Yeah? What is it?” she asks, cocking her head. A rivulet of water drips into her eye, and she blinks it away.

“Get in, I’m giving you a ride,” Chloe says, words muffled by the rain. “Or don’t you want one?”

A relieved grin lights up Brooke’s face, and she dashes over to the car, splashing drops of water onto the shining red metal. Her smile falls, though, when something occurs to her. “Wait, I’m going to get it all wet. You wouldn’t want that, would you?” That definitely seems like something Chloe would yell at someone about…

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Well, I can’t just let you get soaked out there. You look like you want to jump off a cliff.”

“I do a little,” Brooke says, then quickly adds, “Not really, though! I’m fine. But… I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” She opens the door and slides in, and a weight lifts off her chest as the warmth from the heated seats soaks into her. Chloe’s car is meticulously cleaned, with a leather interior and a pair of fuzzy pink dice hanging from the rearview mirror. This is nothing new, but it’s a different experience when she’s soaking wet; everything feels more magical.

“Don’t get too excited,” Chloe says. “You still need to strap yourself in. I don’t wanna get pulled over.”

“Oh! Right,” Brooke says, and obeys. “Hey, maybe after I get dried off and changed, we can go to the mall or something.”

“Y’know, Brooke?” Chloe says, eyes lighting up, “I would love that.”


	17. Damned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for homophobia.

Chloe’s parents aren't coming to the wedding.

It’s something she’d had to deal with all these years, the knowledge that they wouldn’t, that they would cast her out if they knew about her and Brooke- and they did. There are few things that make Chloe cry, but this is one of them, a harsh reminder of the way that her parents’ love is conditional. When she gets the response in the form of an angry letter, Chloe sits on the bed, praying to a God she doesn’t really believe in that the mascara she’s wearing is waterproof.

When Brooke opens the bedroom door, Chloe starts, eyes widening, and shoves the letter under her pillow. “Hey,” she says, as if nothing had happened.

“What’s that letter for?” Brooke asks, ignoring her greeting. “Is it…”

Chloe sighs, nodding. “From my parents? Yeah. They’re, um…” She clears her throat, wipes away a tear. Her finger comes away with a black smudge on it- it wasn’t waterproof, after all. “They’re not coming.”

Brooke scowls, and Chloe winces at the unnatural look; it’s unbecoming. “You know, Chloe? I don’t really like your parents.”

“Believe me, neither do I,” Chloe says, “but I thought they might at least want to show up to their daughter’s wedding. Silly me.”

Brooke crosses the small room and sits next to Chloe, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It’s not silly to be have hope, even if they squash it. ...Are you going to be okay?”

Chloe shrugs and makes a feeble attempt to laugh it off, but her voice is choked with tears when she says, “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Brooke’s frown intensifies, and she leans in to kiss Chloe’s cheek. “I don’t know if I believe that,” she says.

Chloe stifles the urge to push Brooke aside and get back to crying on her own. She’s getting married to this woman, for God’s sake; she needs to learn how to be comfortable with being vulnerable around her. “Okay, so it’s hard,” she says. “I don’t know. I just wish they weren’t like this. Maybe I wouldn’t be such a bitch if my parents didn’t slap me and hate me for being a lesbian.”

“You’re not a bitch,” Brooke reassures her, side-hugging her tighter. “...Not anymore, anyway. So don’t even worry about it, okay?”

“How am I not supposed to worry? My dad’s not going to walk me down the aisle. I’m not gonna get shitfaced with my mom like she promised we would at my wedding.” Chloe moans, burying her face in her hands. “This is a disaster.”

It takes Brooke a second to reply. After a moment spent humming in consideration, she says, “Well, not to brag, but my parents are pretty cool, I guess. And, once we get married, they’ll be your parents, too. So… I guess it’s just like getting an upgrade.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Chloe says, and sighs. “Look… you don’t need to worry about me, I promise. But thank you.” 

“Of course.” Brooke kisses Chloe on the cheek again and manages a smile. “I love you, alright? No matter what your parents think.”

“Yeah,” Chloe says, “I love you, too.”


	18. Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the idea about Chloe having a white cat named Marie goes to lovenotLOVE on here.

The high-pitched mewling noise hits Brooke’s ears before Chloe’s. She tugs on Chloe’s sleeve, and Chloe turns to her, cocking her head. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t you hear that?” Brooke asks. They’ve stopped in the middle of the sidewalk in downtown New York City, which is a sin, but Brooke can’t ignore something like this. She pulls Chloe toward the alley they’ve stopped next to, but she digs her heels in.

“Are you crazy? I’m not going in there. What if we get stabbed to death?” Chloe sticks her nose up, pouting. “I’ve seen American Psycho, you know.”

Brooke rolls her eyes. “Oh, come  _ on,  _ Chlo, you’re being paranoid. Besides, can’t you hear the kitten?”

Chloe narrows her eyes and waits for a few seconds. “Wait a second. Is that what that noise is?” Her face brightens. “Oh, my God, Brooke, it’s a kitten!”

Brooke is already rifling through empty boxes that rest against the building; they’re gross and soggy, but she’d do anything to find that kitten right now. The crying continues, and eventually, she pushes aside an empty box to find it, fuzzy white coat stained with dirty water. “Chloe, I found it,” she calls. “Come look!”

Chloe approaches slowly, smiling despite its grodiness when she sees the kitten. “It’s so cute!” she chirps, and crouches down to greet it. She sticks her hand out and allows the kitten to sniff it, which it does; in fact, it comes out of its hidey-hole and rubs its face against her palm.

“You’re so good with animals,” Brooke says, not quite bitter, but a little jealous. “Here, kitty kitty.” She makes kissy noises at the kitten, but to no avail; it’s already obsessed with Chloe. 

Chloe rubs the top of the kitten’s head with one thumb, then asks, “What should we name it?”

“Name it? I thought we would just drop it off at an animal shelter,” Brooke says. “Does our landlord even allow pets?”

“We don’t have to let her know. I was thinking Marie, you know, after the Aristocats.” Chloe picks up the squeaking kitten and holds it to her chest, shushing it as she strokes it. “I know you love that movie, so…”

“That’s very sweet, Chloe,” Brooke says, “but we probably shouldn’t break the rules like that.”

“You’re so straight-laced for someone who used to get drunk with me in high school all the time,” Chloe says, and elbows Brooke. “C’mon, don’t be a killjoy.”

Brooke stares at the dirty white kitten, narrowing her eyes. On the one hand, it’s definitely against the rules to keep a cat at their apartment if it’s not a registered therapy animal. On the other hand… that’s a very,  _ very  _ cute kitten Chloe’s got there. “Alright,  _ fine,”  _ she says, “but if we get kicked out, you’re gonna be the one to find us a new apartment. Deal?”

“Deal,” Chloe says, and kisses Marie on the crown of her head. “Isn’t that right, Marie?”

Marie just mewls in response.


	19. Vanilla

The day Brooke brings home a vanilla bean orchid from the gardening store, Chloe knows it’s going to be a rough time. “I’m not going to help you garden, Brooke,” she says, crossing her arms. “I’d never be able to get the dirt out from under my nails.”

“Oh, come on! It would be a fun bonding activity,” Brooke says, and points to the potted plant she’s set on the kitchen table as she adds, “And, isn’t it cute?”

Chloe pers at it through scrutinizing eyes. She’s not the type of person to call plants cute, really; that’s more Brooke’s thing. Still, she can admit that it has its virtues. The long leaves are healthy and green, and, while it’s still young, Chloe can see that it has potential. “...It’s alright.”

That’s enough for Brooke to be happy; her face lights up with a grin, and she says, “Well, what’re you waiting for, then? Let’s go plant it!”

Despite her reluctance, Chloe can’t help but match Brooke’s smile. Her enthusiasm is contagious. She takes the pair of pink rubber gloves that Brooke hands her- “Only two dollars, and they’re your favorite color!”- and slides them on, then follows her out into the garden. 

The sky is a pleasant blue above their heads, speckled with just a couple clouds, and Chloe stretches her arms above her head as she feels the sun hit her back. After humming for a moment, she says, “At least it’s nice out.” 

Brooke nods. “We’re going to plant it over there,” she says, pointing to an empty patch in the small garden that grows alongside their house. “Do you want to dig the hole, or do you want to-”  
“I’ll plant it,” Chloe says before Brooke even gets a chance to finish. There’s no way in hell she’s digging a hole to plant a flower she doesn’t care about, even for her wife. Plus, as she thinks with a smirk, Brooke is pretty hot when she’s getting a workout.

Chloe leans back in a lawn chair she’s dragged out of the garage as Brooke sticks the shovel into the earth and flips out dirt; she’s not sure how Brooke can stomach it, but hey, if it makes her happy, then she’s not complaining. 

After a few minutes, Brooke calls out, “I’m done! Come plant it.”

“On it,” Chloe says, and grabs the plant from its spot next to her. Balancing it meticulously, she walks over, and Brooke teaches her how to plant it. “Okay, so first you’re going to want to loosen the roots. Just tease them with your fingers.” She winks. “I know how good you are at that.”

Chloe rolls her eyes, but she can’t keep back a smile. “Right, right.” She obeys Brooke’s instructions, and the roots lose their form, spreading out into a shapeless mass. 

“Now, put them in and pat down the dirt around them, but not too tight.”

Chloe sets the plant in the ground and reaches out for a handful of soil, lightly packing the hole with dirt. “Like this?”

Brooke crouches down and touches the soil, then nods. “That’s perfect,” she says. “You know, we make a good team.”

“We sure do.” Chloe kisses Brooke on the cheek and smiles. “Hey, maybe gardening isn’t so bad.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” Brooke says, and takes Chloe’s hand. “Thanks for helping out.”

“You know what?” Chloe says after a moment of thought. “There’s nothing I’d rather do.”


	20. Hate

“Yo, Chlo, I just think we should see other people.”

Chloe’s taut smile reveals nothing- though it should say everything- as she replies, “I feel the exact same way.” Beneath her skin, though, her blood is boiling. How dare Jake say that and then just laugh and walk away, as if they were  _ nothing?  _ They’d been together since sophomore year; how could he just throw that away?

“You are so mature,” Brooke says from beside her, and Chloe whips around to face her.

“Brooke!”

“I mean, I hate him!” Brooke corrects herself, slamming against the lockers.

Chloe softens for a moment. Does she scare Brooke? Should she? ...No, this is a good thing. She’d rather be feared than loved- except, of course, when it comes to Jake. She takes a shuddering breath in, then out, and tries to force herself not to cry. She needs to leave-  _ now.  _ “What’re you staring at?” she growls at some kid- Jerry something-or-another- and brushes past him on the way to the bathroom.

“Chloe, are you okay?” Brooke asks on the way, following closely behind. “I know you were together for a long time-”

“I’m  _ fine,”  _ Chloe answers, a blatant lie; why else would she be hiding in the bathroom? She enters the room, then ducks into the nearest stall. She slams the door behind her, but it bounces back open. Chloe doesn’t bother to close it; what even matters anymore? 

This changes everything. For one, what would happen to her social position? If she’s no longer dating the most popular guy in school, would people even give her a second glance? Surely they would, but the fear still prickles at the back of her brain. A tear slips down her cheek, and she brushes it away, growling again. 

“Chloe?”

Chloe turns to see Brooke standing behind her, brow furrowed with concern. She reaches out and lays a hand on Chloe’s shoulder; Chloe would normally shrug it off, but she needs it right now. “I’m worried about you,” Brooke says. “You don’t look alright.”

“I’m… fine.” Chloe can’t pretend much longer, but she’ll hold onto this lie kicking and screaming if she has to. “I’m alright.”

“Chloe, we’ve been best friends for two years now,” Brooke says, “you can’t lie to me.”

“I. Am fine.”

“You’re not fine!” Brooke pulls Chloe in for a hug and buries her face in the crook of her neck. “You were crying.”

The sensation of being hugged breaks Chloe in half, and she sniffles, a tear streaking unimpeded down her face. “Fine,” she says, voice guttural. “Fine, I’m not okay. But don’t tell anyone about this, okay? Swear on your life?”

“I swear,” Brooke says, voice muffled by Chloe’s skin. “Now, just… let me do this. We still have a couple minutes before class starts.”

They miss the late bell, but Chloe feels at home in Brooke’s arms, like maybe the world won’t end and the ground won’t swallow her up. Maybe things will be okay.


	21. Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit goes to lovenotLOVE on here for the Icarus imagery idea.

Ever since they became friends, Brooke has thought of Chloe as the sun: bright and dazzling, she’s the center of Middle Borough High, and would probably stay that way until they graduate- which is basically forever. In turn, she herself is the moon: reflecting Chloe’s light, perhaps not as important, but still a constant fixture in the sky, offering its sympathy to the dark Earth below.

And yet, tonight, Brooke isn’t the moon at all. Instead, she’s a boy with wings made of feathers and wax, and they’re beginning to melt.

Brooke’s heart stops in her chest as Jeremy pulls open the door, looking at her with wide, terrified eyes. ...He’s shirtless. Normally, it’d be a nice sight, but not like this. Never like this. “...Jeremy?” she asks, voice barely more than a whisper.

“Brooke!” Jeremy swallows, then looks away. No other words come out of his mouth- not an apology, not anything- and Brooke closes her eyes tight. This can’t be happening. Her boyfriend can’t be cheating on her with her best friend. She doesn’t  _ deserve  _ that… does she?

Brooke jumps as the sound of shattering glass hits her from the bedroom; before she can reorient herself, Jeremy pushes her out of the way with a hurried, “Sorry.”

And then she’s left alone with Chloe.

Well, Chloe might not know she’s there. She’s barely made a noise, and she seems pretty preoccupied with… is that Jake coming in through the broken window? Oh, screw this, she’s outta here.

Stiffly, mechanically, Brooke makes her way downstairs, passing the huddled groups of drunken teens and ignoring anyone who calls her name, which is nobody. There are no pockets in her sexy dog costume, but if there were, her hands would be stuffed in them, back hunched, downtrodden.

The cool night air is harsh in her lungs, and she coughs, which turns into a sob. Brooke plops down on the stoop with a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. It’s more bearable out here, but the music still thrums behind her, and there’s still the stench of weed, thanks to a group of burnouts who’re smoking next to the tree by the window. 

A tear streaks down Brooke’s face, then another, and soon enough, she’s bawling, trying to be quiet but failing miserably. The funny thing is, nobody gives her a second glance, despite her glaringly obvious pain. They don’t see her as a real person; rather, she’s Brooke Lohst, Chloe’s best friend, the  _ second  _ hottest girl in school, the  _ second  _ most popular.

She loves Jeremy so damn much, she doesn’t know what to do with herself, but the kicker is- she loves Chloe, too. She has ever since freshman year, and she’s not going to stop anytime soon, it seems like, even with this massive slight. Why can’t she just stop loving her? It would be so simple, and yet...

Sniffling, chilly, and distraught, Brooke mourns her wings, melted by the sun that is Chloe and her love for her.


	22. Shopping

“So, how do I look?” Brooke asks, tossing her long, black hair over one shoulder. She’s donned a Fall Out Boy t-shirt, fresh out of her Hot Topic bag, and now puts her hands on her hips, waiting for Chloe’s reaction.

As many high school sophomore are, Brooke is, of course, going through an emo phase. Chloe is… not impressed. She misses the preppy, pretty Brooke she had last year; now that she’s going for an edgy look, Chloe finds that she can’t help her much with her fashion choices. “Um… good?” she answers, though it’s more of a question than anything. “Your lipstick matches the shirt.”

It’s true; Brooke’s dark red lipstick is nearly the same shade as the logo on the shirt. “Oh, that wasn’t on purpose,” she says, and grins. “I guess it was meant to be.”

“Well, I should hope so. You already spent a bunch of money on it.” Chloe examines her own nails, pink and yellow gradients, then looks back up at Brooke. “So, all this is… just a phase, right?”

Brooke’s grin turns to a downtrodden frown. “Well, maybe, but I’m having fun, so…”

A pang of guilt hits Chloe in the gut, and she holds back a frown of her own. Okay, so maybe she should stop being such a bitch. But it’s in her nature! She can’t help it. “Well… you look good,” she says, and she really does mean it. It’s weird to see Brooke with black hair, and it’s not as pretty on her as her natural blonde color is, but she supposes it could look worse. She’s still the second prettiest girl in school- after herself, of course.

A smile alights on Brooke’s face, and she says, “Thanks, Chloe. Um, I know you don’t really get all this stuff, but I think it would be cool if you… I dunno, listened to my music with me sometime, or something.” There’s something timid in her voice, like a baby deer, and Chloe can’t help but be warmed by it.

“...You promise I’ll like it?” she asks.

“Well, no,” Brooke admits, “but I think you should still try.” She takes Chloe’s hands in a way that  _ totally  _ isn’t gay and that Chloe  _ definitely  _ isn’t internally freaking out about and adds, “Maybe you’ll like Panic.”

Chloe hums as she considers it. “You know… for you, I’ll give it a shot.”


	23. Gold

“I have two questions,” is the first thing that comes out of Chloe's mouth when Jenna picks up. No greeting, straight to the point.

_“...Yeah?”_ Jenna asks on the other end, and Chloe can hear the frown in her voice. _“Girl, you're sorta worrying me. No hello?”_

“It's important,” Chloe says. “Now, are you going to hear me out or not?”

_ “Um, hit me.” _

“Okay, one, do you want to be my maid of honor?” Chloe doesn't wait for a response before she adds, “And two, do you wanna go ring shopping for me tomorrow? I'm thinking something gold, to match her hair.”

Jenna is a silent for a moment, and all Chloe can hear is a soft gasp. _“Holy shit, yes,”_ she says after a couple seconds. _“I'd be honored. You'd really choose me?”_

“Of course I would. You're my closest friend besides Brooke, and she can't be my maid of honor, given that I'm marrying her.” Chloe shrugs, although Jenna obviously can't see her. “Really, I'd love to have you. But, uh, about the ring?”

_ “Oh! Yeah, of course, I'd love to,”  _ Jenna says. There's a grin in her voice, and Chloe matches it, closing her eyes in contentment. _ “Man, this is great. Two of my best friends getting married…” _

Chloe chuckles. “Well, what did you expect? We were practically meant to be.”

_ “‘Practically’? No way, this is 100%.”  _ Jenna laughs, and Chloe's smile widens further. _ “So, what time were you thinking to go shopping?” _

“I don’t know, maybe 2:00 tomorrow, but look- we have to be discreet. She can’t know I’m planning to propose, so don’t go babbling,” Chloe says. “I know how you love to.”

Jenna scoffs, but Chloe’s pretty sure she’s not actually offended. _“I’ll have you know, Valentine, that I’m perfectly capable of keeping secrets. For example, did you know that-”_

“No, no, don’t say it, Rolan,” Chloe says with a roll of her eyes. “Just keep it under wraps, okay? Promise me?”

Jenna sighs and answers, _“Fine, I promise. Are you happy now?”_

Chloe smirks. “Very.”


	24. Blessed

The day after their wedding, Brooke wakes up with her head on Chloe's chest, smiling. She's not sure what she did to deserve being this blessed, truly- blessed with a wonderful wife, blessed with a house in this economy, blessed with a group of friends who support and cherish her. Her smile widens as she thinks back to the previous day- Jenna and Christine's maid of honor speeches, as opposed to a best man's; Jeremy trying and failing to drink her under the table; Rich performing a rock ballad solo at the afterparty… Yeah, life's pretty great.

Brooke turns her head to look at Chloe's face. In sleep, she's a bit less dignified, but she's still undeniably beautiful. It's tempting to wake her up and say hello, but Chloe is notoriously grumpy in the morning, and sometimes that applies to her, so she'll stay until the alarm.

Instead, she reviews the past five years in her head. There was that afternoon in February, the day her life changed forever with a simple kiss, electric and fluttering. There was the first time, on their six-month anniversary, that they told each other how in love they were, with Brooke fiddling with her cardigan and Chloe looking away, afraid to be vulnerable. A year later, they moved in together for college, and then came the apartment, then the house; now here they are, married, leaving for their honeymoon in Greece in three hours.

The alarm blares, shaking Brooke out of her reverie. Chloe frowns, sneering in her half-sleep, and lets the arm that was draped across her eyes fall to the bed. “Ugh. ‘Morning.”

“You’re not hungover, are you?” Brooke asks with a snicker.

“What, I don’t even get a hello?” Chloe opens her eyes and rolls them. “No, I’m not hungover. I didn’t drink that much, Brookie.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just kidding.” Brooke leans in and kisses Chloe by the corner of her mouth, then whispers, “My lovely wife.”

Chloe laughs, swatting at Brooke, who rolls off of her and laughs as well. “Wow. So yesterday really happened, huh?” She sits up and stretches her arms with a yawn. “Which means today is…”

“Greece day!” Brooke chirps. “You as jazzed as I am?”

“Hell, yeah,” Chloe says. “Just let me, uh, wake up first. I need some coffee.”

“Right.”

As Chloe slides out of bed and heads for the kitchen, Brooke watches her go, the living embodiment of the heart eyes emoji. Yeah, life is pretty damn good.


	25. Split

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one's a little late, to anyone that cares. Got busy doing other stuff, and I was at the stage door for Falsettos in -25 F temps without gloves yesterday so typing is A Little Painful.  
> That said, I hope it's worth it.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Brooke blinks. The image of Jeremy flashing her and the rest of their little traumagenic friend group a thumbs up as Christine accepted his offer for a date is etched into her memory, it’s true, but that doesn’t mean it hurts. ...Does it hurt? Okay, yeah, it totally hurts. She swallows, not making eye contact with Chloe. “...I don’t know. Maybe.”

“You’ve been out of sorts since Jeremy got out of the hospital,” Chloe says, and wraps an arm around Brooke’s shoulders. 

The bench at the Menlo Park Mall that they’re seated at is secluded, and nobody looks; Brooke breathes a sigh of relief. She’s not in the mood to be stared at right now. “I’m fine,” she insists, but is she? She doesn’t think so. She loved Jeremy, truly. Sure, she loves Chloe too, but that would never happen; Chloe is, like, the straightest girl she knows. Hell, she went feral when Jake got with Christine. (Jeez, what a homewrecker… no, that’s mean. Christine is great.)

Chloe takes a deep breath in, then sighs it out. “Look, don’t take this for granted, because you know damn well I don’t like to be vulnerable.” 

Brooke nods, gives a snort of laughter. 

“I was there just a couple months ago. You know how well I took it when Jake got with Christine.” Chloe grimaces. “Ugh, that was so embarrassing. Never let me drink again.”

“Chlo,” Brooke says, “neither God nor I could keep you from drinking strawberry vodka.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Brooke rubs her eyes with the heels of her palms, letting them rest on her eyelids for a moment before she speaks up again. “I just wish things could maybe work out my way for once in my life. Don’t I deserve better? Or am I just a shitty enough person that it’s karma?” No, she’s not a shitty person. Or is she? Could she be? She helped spread those rumors about Rich, but that was mostly Jenna. She pushed a kid that turned out to be Michael out of the way in the hall once, but that’s because he stepped on her brand new shoes. 

“You’re not a bad person,” Chloe assures her, and Brooke has to listen to that, because if she doesn’t listen to Chloe, who else is she supposed to listen to? Herself? Likely story.

Brooke places her hands in her lap and opens her eyes. “Am I going to be okay, do you think?”

“Are you going to be okay?” Chloe gives a barking laugh and slings an arm around Brooke’s shoulders. “Of course you’re going to be okay; you’re Brooke fucking Lohst! You’re one of the prettiest and most popular girls in school. Nothing can keep you down.”

Brooke doesn’t completely believe it. She doesn’t know what to believe. But she knows she trusts Chloe, even after all this, so she nods. And, if she leans her head against Chloe’s shoulder just this once, who’s to blame her in her misery?


	26. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild TW for parental abuse in the first paragraph.

Chloe wasn’t ever going to be a normal person. Her mother made sure of that the first time her hand touched her face, not in a comforting manner, not to wipe away tears, but in a swift delivery of her fucked-up sense of justice.

Brooke, though, isn’t a wholly healthy person either. Insecurity nibbles at her Achilles’ tendons as she walks down the halls of Middle Borough High at Chloe’s side, monstrous despite her solid position as the second-prettiest girl in school.

So there they find themselves, during winter break of their senior year, sitting on Chloe’s bed with blank expressions on their faces.

“Sorry for making this an impromptu therapy session,” Brooke says, then mumbles something that’s too quiet for Chloe to make out.

“What?”

“I, um… I said, I know it’s burdensome.” She twiddles with the hair tie around her wrist, snapping it against her skin. 

Chloe reaches out and stills her hand with her own, curling her freshly-manicured fingers around it. “It’s fine,” she says, not knowing what else to say. Comforting people really isn’t her forte- it’s pretty much at the bottom of the list of all skills in existence for her- but that doesn’t mean she won’t try.

Brooke looks up at Chloe, teary-eyed. “I just… I don’t know why I can’t be happy, you know? Like I am… happy… but then I think about my weight, or my facial structure, or- or my hair, and I…” She swallows. “I don’t know. Maybe I think too much.”

Chloe, for the life of her, can’t empathize. She’s felt beautiful all her life; why shouldn’t she? She knows damn well she’s the hottest girl at Middle Borough, so she’s not kept up at night by insecurities. Still, for Brooke, she’ll make an effort. “I get it,” she lies, “but Brooke, you’re beautiful. Seriously- I don’t know why you can’t see it.”

Brooke wipes her eyes with her free hand, and Chloe notes with a pang of sorrow the way tears glisten on the side of her finger. “I guess,” she says. “I just… don’t feel like it, you know? And I don’t know why, because nobody’s out here calling me ugly, and I know I’m conventionally attractive.” She sighs, looks down at her hands. “But that doesn’t keep me from hurting.”

Chloe ponders the situation for a second. If words aren’t getting through to her, how could she possibly help Brooke? Words are all she has. Except… “Okay, how about this?” she asks. “Every time you’re feeling insecure or down on yourself, I’ll kiss you.”

That, to little surprise, gets a giggle out of Brooke. “What, are you serious? That’s a little touchy-feely for you, isn’t it?”

Well, that’s true. Chloe isn’t super big on PDA, partially because she’s still coming to terms with liking girls, partially because she hates being vulnerable and admitting that she has feelings. Again, though- for Brooke, she’d do anything. “Yeah, a little,” she says, “but it’s worth it. I’d never say no to kissing a girl as cute as you.”

Another giggle. “We could try,” Brooke says, and manages a smile as she looks into Chloe’s eyes. She clears her throat. “You know, um… I’m feeling sorta…”

“Are you really? Or do you just want a kiss?”

“Both,” Brooke says, and just this once, Chloe is a pushover.


	27. Space

_ Brooke _

**_Could not send message._ **

_ Brooke? _

**_Could not send message._ **

_ Test _

**_Could not send message._ **

 

“Ugh, what the fuck?” Chloe mutters, and prepares to type out another test text before she backspaces it all, resigning herself to her fate. 

Brooke had left her behind. Well, not really- she’s in Italy, seeing the sights, eating pasta, whatever, but it felt like leaving her behind. Who else was she supposed to talk to? She didn’t have any friends at college, not like she did in high school; there’s nobody there that even shines a candle to Brooke, anyway. And now her stupid phone isn’t working. ...That, or Brooke had blocked her number, but after years of dating her, she’s pretty sure that’s not what happened. 

Chloe drops her phone to the mattress and stares blankly up at the ceiling, crossing her arms over her chest. Well, what the hell’s she supposed to do now?

Wait. Brooke gave her the name of the hotel she’s staying at- Hotel Olimpia. She could write a letter! ...Do hotels even accept letters? Do they have mailboxes? Whatever, it’s worth a shot. Chloe slides out of bed and digs through the drawer of her nightstand for her notepad and a pencil, then gets to work.

 

_ Dear Brooke, _

_ Hey, I love you! I hope you’re having fun over there. My phone broke, so I’m writing a letter, even though it probably won’t get to the hotel until after you’ve left. I miss you! Bring me back a shirt or something, okay?  _

_ Love, _

_ Chloe _

 

Chloe stares down at the letter for a few moments, then crumples the page up and tosses it in the trash.

 

_ Brooke, _

_ Hey, girl! Look, my phone broke, so I won’t be replying to your texts until I can get it fixed. This probably won’t reach the hotel until after you’re back, but I figured it’s worth a shot. In the meantime, I love you very much, and I hope you’re having fun over there. Bring back some pasta for me, okay? /sarc _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Chlo _

 

There, that sounds better. She’s about to fold up the paper and search for an envelope when her text message alert goes off with a  _ ping _ . Chloe perks up, an instinctual grin brightening her features, and lunges for her phone.

 

 _OMG hey chlo!!!_ _sorry my phone was dead ):_

 

Almost embarrassed, Chloe chuckles at herself, running a hand through her hair. Of course she was freaking out over nothing.

 

_ hey babe! i just did the most ridiculous thing lmao _


	28. Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. "Didn't you just write a ficlet like this, CJ?" It's a prequel, I guess. Also, I had no other ideas, and wanted to end this with a wedding, like a Shakespearean comedy or something.  
> 2\. I think this might be the longest pinkberry-centric fic on AO3, which is sad, because it's only like 13k words. Maybe I'll remedy this later, maybe I won't.  
> 3\. WE DID IT. IT'S OVER. So sorry to everyone who's subscribed to me lmao

“Whoa, Brooke… you look like a princess.” Christine’s eyes gleam as she grins up at Brooke, hands placed squarely on her shoulders. “This is amazing. I can’t believe this is seriously happening.”

Brooke breathes out and places one hand on one of Christine’s. “You’re sweet,” she says, more a breath than anything, “but this is terrifying.” 

Christine’s grin falls into a frown for a moment before she brightens up again in a way that only she can. Her hands tighten around Brooke’s shoulders as she says, “That’s okay! A lot of good things are scary. My first audition, I almost cried. But then I got the role!”

Christine’s enthusiasm is usually contagious, but it doesn’t soothe Brooke’s nerves as much as she desperately wishes it would. “Yeah, but you’re really good at acting,” she protests. “Who says I’m good at getting married?” She sighs and shrugs Christine’s hands off. “I don’t know. I just don’t know about this, Chrissy.”

Christine cocks her head, brows furrowing. “Don’t know about getting married?”

“Yeah! I just… it’s scary. I’m going to make an idiot of myself, and Chloe is going to make fun of me.” Brooke looks down- her hands are shaking, and so are her legs. “Great. And I can barely stand.”

Christine pulls Brooke into a tight embrace, pressing her forehead into her shoulder. Her voice is muffled by the fabric of Brooke’s wedding dress as she says, “You can do this. You’re one of the coolest people I know! This can’t be Brooke Lohst talking.”

Brooke huffs a sarcastic snort of laughter. “Yeah, right.”

“No, I mean it! Nothing’s gonna go wrong,” Christine insists. “And if it does, there’s not many of us here, just the squad and your family. It’ll be fine!”

“...What if I make a fool of myself and she changes her mind?” Brooke tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and gnaws at her painted lips. “I’m just so worried; I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Look, look, look, look.” Christine takes a deep breath, and gestures for Brooke to do the same; she does so, but it’s hard, since she’s almost certainly going to start hyperventilating. “You’re going to be fine. You’re marrying your best friend. You’re going to stomp that glass, and everyone will cheer, and you’ll be super ultra happy, and you’ll get drunk, and-”

“Yeah, I think I get it, Christine,” Brooke says. “I guess I’m overreacting. I mean, what’s there to be worried about, anyway?” Besides saying the wrong thing, kissing Chloe at the wrong time, tripping on her dress, sweating too much, getting her hair caught on something…

“Brooke. Listen to me.” Christine points at her face, as stern as Brooke’s ever seen it. “This is my serious face, so you have to take me seriously. You need to do this. You’ve been wanting it for a long time, and if you don’t do it now, you’re really going to regret it.”

Brooke takes a deep breath in, then out, and finds that she isn’t on the verge of hyperventilating anymore. “Okay, fine. I’m gonna do this. I… can do this.”

“You can do this!”

“I can do this!”

Christine high-fives Brooke with both hands. “Now, let’s go!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I love you!  
> If you enjoyed this, check out last year's Femslash February fic, Holding Onto Our Pride, about an alternate universe where Christine buys a SQUIP in an effort to win Jenna's heart.  
> Also, my Tumblr is thecicadasong if you wanna stop by and say hi!


End file.
